I'm Back!......but just for a second

My "soul-mate", Otin, (I would link to the post that explains that but I'm writing this from the back of a Harley in Indiana) is so distraught over my disappearance from the blogoshere that he has hijacked my blog for ransom. I could either pay him in chocolate chip cookies (like I'd share those...) Or I could have him guest post on my blog so at least the lights are still on and it's not dark here in smbland. Poor Otin, He misses me. Awwwww.

The answer was a no brainer (because I ain't sharin' cookies). Otin is a gifted writer and if I still have any readers out there, I know you will not be disappointed. I have given Otin the keys to the kingdom and did not read what he has written before posting. I only asked that he didn't get me in trouble with Daddy since he reads this blog.

Without further ado, I give you, Otin, the Wizard:

Lost In Suburbia
Tommy stood on the traffic island and watched as the cars drove past in both directions. Although he was elderly, he still felt that he was pretty smart, but this morning he was confused. He had taken a walk and had made a few unfamiliar turns , and now found himself completely lost. How could he spend his entire life in one town and be clueless as to where he now stood?

He crossed the street and headed down Maplewood drive. Tommy knew that he had been on Maplewood before, but could not recall when. Old age was really biting him in the ass! As he walked down Maplewood, he began to absorb the world around him. He had never looked at things the way that he was viewing them on this day.

He watched a mother screaming at her child. “Get your ass in this fucking house!” she had yelled. Tommy felt such pity for the young boy, to have to grow up like that.

He saw a police car parked in a driveway and a couple in handcuffs being escorted out of their house. He wondered what they had done? This was a nice looking neighbor hood.

Tommy proceeded down Maplewood and turned right on Simmons street. As he headed down Simmons street, he noticed that the houses got smaller and more run down, but what he really noticed was that while Maplewood was mostly white families, that Simmons street was mostly black. It was funny to him how he had never paid attention to this before. As a matter of fact, in his entire life, this was the first time that he had been down Simmons Street, he was sure of that. It seemed awfully strange in a world that was supposedly not segregated anymore.

He had gotten some strange looks , but then he had gotten strange looks everywhere that he had gone. He even had a police car slow down as it passed, but no one really seemed to care that he was lost and wandering.

Tommy turned off onto Park Lane and walked for about 15 minutes and came back into a more affluent neighborhood. He walked by a school. It must have been lunch time because there were tons of kids milling about. He noticed two kids in particular, dressed in black. The one boy lifted up his shirt to show the other one a pistol that he had in his belt. He did not know what to make of this, his mind was a bit fuzzy. All that he wanted to do was to find his home. He was starting to panic.

The park was the next thing that he passed. He saw some Mothers gathered around a picnic table, while their young children played on the swings and see saws. Tommy wondered why the man in the van would be interested in watching young kids play?

He ended up in the downtown area where he saw some young man in a suit talking with someone who looked like he had not seen a shower in a month. The man in the suit handed the other man some money, in exchange for a tiny baggie with a tiny bit of powder in it. Tommy thought that this was strange, he definitely had lived a sheltered life.

He passed the Veterans hospital, where a one legged gentleman smiled at him and asked him if he was lost. All of the people that he had passed, and the one guy that was willing to help was the one who had given so much already. It was really uplifting. He declined the help and kept walking. He would never admit to being lost.

Tommy walked a bit more and spotted Trotters Drive. He remembered it! He had found his street! It is a tough thing when you question your own mind. He walked until he found the yellow Victorian house that he had lived his whole life in.

Sandy and David ran out of the door screaming with joy, “Tommy, where have you been?”

He was home, he was happy, and he never wanted to be lost again. He began to wag his tail and ran up to Sandy and began to lick her face.

“Down, boy!”, David commanded in a happy voice. He clicked a leash on Tommy’s collar and led him into the back yard.
The End



Thank You SMB, for the trust and friendship!